Chapter Four

Several weeks passed and Selena had not yet mended her heart. She feared she never would. Her absence from Primrose House had done nothing to remove the memory of her mistake—of Horace’s rejection. She’d stopped receiving callers after the first week, her mood and emotions too fragile to control.

“This came for you, miss,” the maid said, handing her a letter.

“Thank you, Sarah.” She gazed out at the street a moment longer as she blindly slid her finger under the flap of the envelope.

As she pulled the letter free, her heart slammed against her ribs as her lungs begged for air. Her tear-filled gaze flew across the words written by her father’s solicitor.

George Wilton was dead.

She sank to the floor on her knees, her arms wrapped around herself, as a keening wail left her constricted throat.

***

The solicitor sat behind her father’s desk and shuffled several papers. It was odd to see someone other than her father there. She closed her eyes a moment and let the sounds, however subtle, filter through her, allowing her to dream, to wish, if only for a moment that it was her father sitting before her and that nothing had changed.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Wilton?” the solicitor asked.

She blinked away the fantasy and took a deep breath. She could feel Horace’s gaze on her from where he stood to the side, but refused to look at him. She was in enough pain with the loss of her father. To see him standing there, looking so handsome, she was sure to make a ninny of herself and beg him to hold her while she wept upon his shoulder.

She cleared her throat, and said, “Yes, please continue.”

“Very well.” He adjusted his spectacles and began to read again. “With the exception of a small allowance to Miss Wilton, monies to further Dr. Kensington’s research and various charities, Mr. Wilton left the entire estate to the church.”

“He left—” the words refused to come out of her mouth.

“Yes, Miss Wilton,” Mr. Beauchamp said, looking up from the papers, a grim frown on his face. “I’m afraid so.”

“This is ridiculous,” Horace said, his voice bristling with anger as he stepped closer. “Surely there’s some mistake. He can’t have left his only daughter, his only child with so little.”

“No mistake. May I proceed?”

Selena nodded, as wave after wave of nausea wafted through her. Why take away all she’d ever known, even the very house she was raised in?

“In the event that Miss Wilton weds Dr. Kensington by the thirtieth day after Mr. Wilton’s death, all of these directions are revoked, leaving the estate in full to his daughter and Dr. Kensington, and monies to a few select charities.”

The lawyer’s words yanked her from the mental puzzle her father had left her. “What did you say?”

Mr. Beauchamp repeated the stipulation, forcing Selena to her feet. “That’s—that’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!” She didn’t spare a glance at Horace, she couldn’t bear to look at him in the face of such absolute mortification.

“Miss Wilton, please calm yourself,” the old lawyer said.

Horace took her by the shoulders and eased her quaking body back into the chair, a whispered endearment on his breath, but she was so distraught she was certain she’d imagined it.

“Be that as it may, the will is quite clear. The estate shall be left to you both, with specific instruction on which charities are to be continued as they have in the past and monies for Dr. Kensington’s research if you wed within a month’s time.”

The old man’s face was a watery blur. How could her father have done this? How could he humiliate her this way?

“This cannot be legal, it’s—it’s absurd,” Horace said, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but this is Mr. Wilton’s Last Will and Testament. It is perfectly legal and binding. I would think you would be satisfied with this, Doctor, as you are seen to in either case.”

“I shouldn’t receive a bloody cent,” he said, his voice hard. “And most definitely not at the expense of Miss Wilton.”

Selena sniffed as delicately as she could and rose, removing herself from his gentle touch, a touch that burned her, a touch she ached for, but refused to accept. “Thank you, Mr. Beauchamp. As odd as the will is, I trust you in this matter.”

Horace reached for her. “Wait—”

She turned toward the door, away from his outstretched hand and paused. “I hold nothing against you, Dr. Kensington. If it was my father’s wish to leave his estate to the church and money for you to further your research, I have no argument with him.”

“Marry me,” he said.

She let her gaze settle on his face for the first time since she’d returned. “My father had his own ideas of how things should be, and I often agreed with him, but not in this. I will not allow him to buy me a husband. I shall do quite well with my stipend. Now if you will excuse me, I have plans to make.”

She hurried through the door and headed for the stairs, for the safety of her rooms where she could cry until she was drained of all the pain. Her fancy pedestal hadn’t protected her after all. But then she knew that after the first few days back in London.

“Selena,” Horace called, appearing at her elbow at the foot of the stairs.

She jerked to a halt on the first step, her hand gripping the railing with all her might. He wasn’t a fool. He had to know, he had to see how much this strange edict from the grave hurt.

“There’s nothing left to say, Horace.”

“I disagree. I am not a man who can be bought, Selena,” he said. “I simply happen to be in love with you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, a new determination growing in her breast. “You made yourself quite clear some weeks ago without uttering a single word. So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

Horace watched her rush up the stairs and cursed beneath his breath. How could he have been so stupid as to believe he could live without her in his life? Why hadn’t he stormed the stairs that fateful day and told her the truth? There had to be a way to mend things, to prove to her that he was true in his feelings.

“I bid you good day, Dr. Kensington,” the solicitor said, as he passed him on his way to the front door.

He nodded absently at the man, then rushed to catch him before he left. “Mr. Beauchamp, I need to speak with you privately.”

“Well, of course, but you must understand that there is no changing the will.”

“Yes, yes, I understand.” He rushed the man into the nearest room and took a deep breath. “But what if I refuse to take Wilton’s money?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t want it. Do whatever it is he is doing with the other funds—no wait.” He glanced around the doorway to the stairs, making sure Selena wouldn’t hear, then turned back to Beauchamp. “I want to give it all to Miss Wilton. And I want it clear that if she does wed me, she retains full control over all the funds, the estate, everything. ”

“My word. Are you quite sure you want to do this? You want to give it all to Miss Wilton?”

“Absolutely,” he said, a heavy breath easing from his lungs. It was the right thing to do at the very least.

Beauchamp rubbed the back of his neck with a pensive look on his face. “Well then,” he said, dropping his hand. “I’ll draw up the paperwork as soon as I get back to my office and have it sent to you. I assume you will be here for a few days yet.”

“Yes, I’m not leaving until I can convince her to marry me.”

The attorney grinned. “Very good. I’ll have it done as quickly as I can.” He paused in his turn toward the door. “What will you do, Dr. Kensington, if you are unsuccessful?”

“I have no idea, other than I shall be as bloody miserable as I have been these last weeks.”

The old man patted him on the shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve known Miss Wilton since she was a child and would not like her to be taken in by someone merely after her money. But I also know that her father had high hopes for the two of you. High hopes indeed.”

Horace watched the man disappear through the front door. He’d known Wilton’s feelings regarding them, he’d made the cutting remark here and there after she’d left, but he’d never dreamed the old gent would go this far. And if he could have the man before him at that very moment, he would tell him in no uncertain terms to stop meddling. But he’d not heeded his instruction about his diet, so it was doubtful he would have listened to his dictates in this matter.

And yet the old gentleman had been right. The moment Horace had spied Selena upon her return, he’d known he’d been foolish to let her go without a word. But now, in light of the odd will, the old man may have very well ruined what little chance Horace still had to win Selena’s hand and heart.

His gaze strayed to the stairs. “I won’t let you go so easily this time, my love,” he whispered.

***

Over the course of the next few days Horace took his time packing his things, waiting until the papers from Mr. Beauchamp arrived. Although Wilton had given him a month to change Selena’s mind, he wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. He would wait for the papers, for that was his best and only strategy—next to groveling, which he hadn’t ruled out as of yet.

“I’ve asked Stallings to assign some of the servants to help you,” Selena said from the doorway.

He looked at her, still in black, still in pain, and knew his presence wasn’t making things easy for her, but he had to stay. “That is very considerate of you, but I can manage. I’ll not be but another week at most. Then you’ll be well rid of me.” He slid another book into the crate.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you wish to get back to London and set up your new office as soon as possible.”

She cleanly avoided mentioning that they both had the month to vacate the premises whether they wed or not, but he left it alone for now and continued his work.

“Yes, I hope to find something with ample room for a secretary’s desk. I rather liked how you managed the business side of things, and hope to find a suitable replacement. Perhaps another young lady with similar skills will suit,” he added with a quick glance to see if his subtle attempt to make her jealous had any success, feeble though it was.

She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, her lips pinched, her chin tilted up just-so. “Perhaps you should seek a suitable secretary among the male set, since you tend to work at odd hours.”

He turned away with a small grin, perhaps not so feeble an attempt after all. “You didn’t appear to find any difficulties with my hours.”

“Yes, well, I happened to live in the same house. A woman wouldn’t be able to remain so late then be expected to travel home in the dark. It wouldn’t be proper or safe.”

“No, I don’t suppose it would be. Perhaps I’ll simply find a girl suitable to the task and marry her.” He lifted his head from his false perusal of a book and looked at her. “That would solve the propriety problem firsthand, and then I wouldn’t have to pay her,” he said with a small wink.

Her face colored up a delightful shade of red. “You’d actually marry some poor unsuspecting girl just to—you’re insufferable.” She spun in a flurry of black bombazine and stormed from the room.

Horace chuckled, warmed by her spurt of jealousy.

Another day passed and the papers hadn’t arrived. His patience was wearing thin. Every time he saw her, he ached to pull her into his arms, to feel her soft lips against his. But he’d hurt her with his lack of reaction to her kiss. He only hoped she could she find it in her heart to forgive him, to love him as he loved her.

He shook his head at the thought. It didn’t matter if they wed, nor did it matter if she loved him, although he prayed for both. He would give her what was rightly hers and live with whatever decision she made. It was the least he could do, and what he wanted to do for the woman who had captured his heart so completely.

“Dr. Kensington, this came for you, sir.” The butler handed him a thick packet of papers.

With hurried hands, he opened the contents and laughed aloud. “Thank you, Stallings,” he said, and slapped the butler on the shoulder. “Thank you!”

He rushed out of the room in search of his beloved. “Selena! Selena!” A silent prayer that all would turn out well slipped from his lips as he made for the stairs.

She appeared at the top as he made the first landing. “What in the name of Heaven is going on? What are you shouting about?”

He bounded up the remaining steps and laughed at how she stumbled back away from him, her eyes wide and wary. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and spun her off her feet.

“I am shouting, my darling, because I love you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Let go of me, you fool,” she said through clenched teeth, straining to escape his hold.

He placed her back on her feet, but held fast. “Not until you look at this. Because afterward, I believe I shall be due a kiss.”

“Oh! Not very likely.” She struggled harder, but he didn’t relent.

“Very well then, I will tell you what it says. You are now the sole recipient of any and all monies that your father left to me. And when you marry me, you will gain full control of the entire estate.”

“I am not marrying you, you oaf! I—what did you say?” She stilled in his arms.

“Read it,” he said, shaking the paper before her. He released her and stepped back, although he hated the emptiness it left inside him.

Snatching the papers from his hand, she turned toward a shaft of light streaking through the window and began to read. “I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes flowing over the words.

“I love you, Selena. I have since the moment I first saw you.”

She shook her head and glanced at the papers in her trembling hands. “But you would give me your portion, and then if we were to—you’d give it all to me?”

He grinned at her amazement. “We both know I’ve no head for business, while you, my love, have your father’s keen mind. And it is rightfully yours.”

She swallowed hard, her wide-eyed gaze hardened as she tilted up her chin. “And if I decide not to marry you?”

His grin fell. “Then I will leave and never bother you again. The monies left to me will still be yours,” he said, his voice low and yet firm.

Selena’s brows knit together painfully, as she glanced at the papers, then looked at his solemn face, the stark fear in his eyes that she might refuse him. But did he truly love her? If so, why had he said nothing, done nothing so many weeks ago?

“You—you never said—never uttered a word,” she said, her voice tight, her throat filled with unshed tears. “You just stood there as if…”

“I know, and I beg your forgiveness for my ineptness. I was stupefied by your attention to me. I’d never once harbored a shred of hope that you might have feelings for me. Even in my grandest dreams, I believed your father would never approve of a match between us. I have little and am no one of any consequence. I—” He fell to his knees before her, sending her heart into a frenzied beat. “I am not worthy of you, Selena, but I love you most adamantly.”

She turned away, confused, hurt, and unsure.

He rose to stand beside her at the stair railing overlooking the hall below. “Your father was quite displeased with me. He’d witnessed the kiss, you see, and threatened to send me packing until I explained what a fool I’d been to not accept your affections. That’s likely why he did what he did in his will. Hoping to give me—us another chance. I still have only myself to offer you, Selena. I can only hope and pray that it is enough. But I do love you. I fell in love with you that very first day and will love you until I die. Your decision, whatever it may be, will not change that.”

She saw the truth in his eyes. He had only himself now that he’d given her all of his portion, just as he was before, even if they wed. The papers were plainly written. But if her father knew of his feelings then why not send for her, why not…She frowned and gripped the railing with an unsteady hand.

She’d played her exit scene quite well, even boasted of her gentlemen callers. But he’d known, her father had known how deeply she hurt. He also knew she would never believe him or Horace, her pride wouldn’t allow it. She was her father’s daughter, stubborn to the end.

“What is it to be, Selena?”

She looked at the man who haunted her dreams and held her heart. A simple man with no real property or position, a man who never rained foolish compliments over her, a man who wanted nothing but to help people…and to be her husband. She would not let her pride or her stubborn nature rule her decision this time.

With a small shake of her head and a grin that refused to remain hidden, she said, “You are abominable at negotiations, Horace. You’ve given away all of your bargaining power.”

She watched the slow smile spread across his handsome face. “I suppose I could learn to do better. But I’ll need someone to teach me, don’t you think?”

“No, I fear you are a lost cause.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose I’ll just have to see to your business dealings myself.”

“I think that would be a fine solution, but there is one more piece of business we need to settle first,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist.

She dropped the papers to the floor and slipped her arms around his neck. “And what would that be, Dr. Kensington?”

A devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes. “My secretary must also be my wife.”

“An interesting stipulation, but I suspect I can accommodate you.” She looked into his eyes, filled with love and passion. “After all, I love you with all my heart.”

“Selena,” he whispered, as his lips met hers, softly at first, then with such hunger it nearly overwhelmed her. She never dreamed he would be a man of such passion, her quite, shy, unassuming doctor.

“Oh, Horace,” she breathed, as he tantalized the side of her neck with hot kisses. “If you’d behaved this way so many weeks ago—”

“I know, love. I’ve been an absolute fool.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.”

His lips returned to hers as his arms held her firmly and his hands began a heady exploration. “I know we should wait to be married before I make love to you, but I’ll be damned if can.”

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom, where he proceeded to kick the door closed behind them.

She giggled with delight, eager to become well and truly his, but in her heart she already was. “Have I no say in this seduction?”

He lowered her to the bed, a wide smile on his handsome face. “You can say please, and more, and oh Horace,” he said, nibbling at her lips. “Just not no.”

She returned his kisses with pleasure. “Mmm, I think I can manage that.”

“Although you should send me away. I can only imagine the whisperings going on below stairs now.” He moved down along the column of her throat to the top of her breasts pressing upward from her dress. She relished the feel of his long lean body stretched out atop hers as his lips danced across her exposed skin.

“Perhaps we should marry sooner than at the end of the thirty days,” she said, her breath coming in faint pants as he eased the edge of her dress down, his mouth following, searing her skin with his kisses.

“We could send for the parson today, although there will be gossip about our haste,” he whispered against her breast, his breath teasing the pebbled tip.

“I don’t care—oh my,” she gasped, as he took the tip into his mouth and suckled. Her mind spun with such wondrous joy.

He lifted his head slightly. “Then I will send for the man as soon as I finish my work,” he said, then resumed his ministrations.

***

Some hours later, Horace did send for the parson, and they were married quietly in her father’s study beneath his portrait. Mrs. Cox and Stallings served as their witnesses.

As they saw the parson out, the old man turned with a smile. “I will do what I can to make sure this is kept as quiet as can be, but it won’t be long until all in sundry know you married in a bit of a rush and without the proper time of mourning. I know, however, that this is just what your father wanted, and that there is nothing improper about it in the least. He had great hopes for the two of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ralston. He was quite clear in his will,” she said.

Horace put his arm about her waist. “Likely one of the strangest wills ever written. And I have to say, that if I’d used half the sense God gave me, I would have asked her to marry me weeks ago. So if you would add that we’d been—contemplating marriage for some time, that might take the bite out of the gossip.”

The parson laughed. “I shall endeavor to do so, but worry not, children. What mutterings arise from this will end in time. Just don’t allow it to tarnish what you have,” he said with wink, then was out the door.

Selena pressed her face to Horace’s coat.

“Darling? What is it?”

She lifted her watery gaze to his. “I do so wish he were here.”

“I do too, love. I do too.” He guided her into the dining room for a late celebratory dinner, although he doubted she had anymore appetite than he did. The loss of Wilton and his jovial nature would be felt for a long time to come, but they had one another.

And that was everything.